


Once

by cathalin



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), American Idol RPF, Kris Allen (Musician)
Genre: First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-11
Updated: 2009-10-11
Packaged: 2017-10-17 20:07:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/180718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathalin/pseuds/cathalin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even if it's only once.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Slight hint of infidelity, depending on your definition.

They take one look at each other when the car to the airport is announced and say, together, "need a few minutes, have it wait out front."

They're in a tiny room off the venue, door locked. Kris scuffs his shoe on the floor, not able to look at Adam.

"Kris."

He straightens. He looks at Adam and sees his own fear coming right back at him; they haven't been apart more than three days since last January.

It's too easy to see the future: the initial vows to stay close, the slow slipping away into their own lives. And that'd probably be simpler than anything else.

Kris has a lot of faults, but he doesn't lie to himself: he doesn't want that future, and from the look on Adam's face -- pinched, sad -- he doesn't, either.

Kris smiles at Adam weakly and rolls his eyes. Adam huffs out a tiny laugh, then holds his hands out tentatively.

It's not even a choice. Kris drops his duffel and walks into Adam's arms, clenches his hands in the back of Adam's jacket, lays his head right up against Adam's chest where he always does.

Kris tries to say something, and he feels Adam's throat working, but no words come. They just hold on, clinging.

Adam turns his head and rests his chin on Kris's hair, and Kris feels it when Adam drops a little kiss on the top of his head. That's Kris's cue to pull away and air-peck at Adam's cheek and step back.

He isn't following the cues tonight. He pulls back slightly and stays there, face tilted up a little. Adam's expression doesn't give much away; even with Kris, Adam maintains self-protective neutrality most of the time.

Kris lets time gather, to the point where Adam's shifting around a little, but clearly not willing to be the first to back away. Kris keeps his hands curled tightly around Adam's back; he's passive about most things in life, except the big ones.

Adam's lips are shiny, and there's a place on the bottom one that's a little rough, the place Adam always bites when he's nervous.

Adam's eyebrow lifts. Kris realizes he's staring at Adam's mouth. And yeah, that's not really something new. A flutter of worry starts in his chest; things are starting to feel awkward, and things never feel awkward with them.

Something is about to happen, if neither of them backs off.

There've been a lot of close calls. Late at night, stumbling-exhausted, crashed out together on the same bed. After the Rolling Stone article. On the lift before singing together, buzzing with energy.

It's never happened.

It's going to happen in about three seconds if neither of them blink and shrug and gently pull away.

One of them always does.

Neither of them does.

Their performances are still ringing in Kris's ears. He kind of can't believe Adam actually did that, sang Tracks the way he did. Then again, he heard the waver in his own voice on Falling Slowly.

When Adam sang Starlight, voice uncharacteristically cracking a little, Kris heard what it was, a goodbye, to all the things they've never be. They'll be friends, sure, but everything else, all the potential...

He doesn't move out of the circle of Adam's arms.

The tendril of worry tries to grow, expand beyond his chest. But the thing is, he's pretty sick of worry. He's sick of a lot of things, including being responsible. Most of all, he's tired of wondering what it would feel like, just once.

The room around them fades into grey; everything's hushed, a gentle hum in his ears. Adam's makeup is wearing off, a little thin in places on his cheeks, mascara running by his right eye. He's big and freaky and acne-scarred and flawed.

Kris lifts his hand and flips a strand of hair away from Adam's eyes, lets his hand linger on Adam's temple.

"Kris," Adam breathes, and Kris decides, _screw it_ , and leans up, brushes his lips softly over Adam's.

He pulls back and smiles at Adam, refuses to let himself feel anything but satisfaction: _finally_.

Adam's hand clenches, huge, behind Kris's neck. Kris can feel how his own body relaxes into it, like it always has with Adam.

Adam tips his head. It's a question, and Kris is sure of the answer. "Once?" he says. "Can we? Is that okay, for you, because I don't want to--"

Adam leans down and kisses Kris. It's like Kris's brush of lips on Adam, but Adam lingers a little, pressing softly on Kris's mouth. When he pulls back, Kris can feel Adam's breath on his lips; Adam's still inches away.

Kris's body, until this point just along for the ride, kicks in with the aching want he's gotten used to ignoring. It's like something just -- shifts -- inside, and everything in him yearns toward Adam.

Adam inhales, short and sharp, thumbs stroking softly on Kris's cheeks. "Yes?" he whispers.

Kris whispers back, "Yeah," and leans up. His hands snake around behind Adam's head and they're kissing, for real this time.

At first it's just lips again, pressing. Adam's hands tighten fractionally behind Kris's head, and Kris gasps softly. Adam breaths out hard into Kris's mouth, and Kris can't help moaning a little, letting his mouth fall further open.

One of Adam's hands slides down to Kris's hip, tightens, pulls Kris forward. The fingers of his other hand card through Kris's hair.

Kris presses even closer, Adam's body huge and hot and male and dear to him.

Adam makes a little sound like something come undone, fingers clenching in Kris's hair.

Kris shivers and slides his tongue into Adam's mouth. Adam's obviously reluctant, not responding, but Kris keeps it up, insistent, and then everything changes; Adam's tongue is in Kris's mouth, hot and strong and saying things Adam's never said in words, never had to.

Kris wants Adam to _know_ ; he presses up against him, rubbing into Adam's thigh. Adam gasps into Kris's mouth and presses back; Kris feels Adam, hot and hard, against his belly.

It's not like they've lied about it to Katy and Drake. Not to each other, either; they've acknowledged it, talked about it, mainly.

But, Kris thinks vaguely, maybe in a way they _have_ been lying, every time they've backed off, stopped the flow of body to body.

Once.

Kris tells Adam his truth with his tongue and lips and hands and body. Tells him everything. They won't have to talk about it; they've always understood each other.

The kiss spirals into heat and ache; it's dirty and sloppy and real. Adam must feel it, too, the longing that's like an itch under the skin; his hands on Kris are possessive and hot.

Kris had thought that when -- if -- they ever kissed, it would be a revelation, shift his world. Instead, he realizes that his world already shifted a long time ago. There's no real revelation here, just knowledge. He wants more of Adam, wants him all over him, surrounding him, inside him.

But. This is once.

The sharp ache twists, becomes something different, familiar.

It shifts for Adam, too, Kris can tell; Adam grabs a fistful of the back of Kris's shirt; his other hand releases Kris's hair, strokes softly, warm and sweet on Kris's face. Kris's hands do the same thing, sliding to cup Adam's face. They pull back softly, slowly, deep kisses turning to gentle presses.

Adam leans his forehead against Kris's and they just stand there, breathing. Kris can see it all, how it would be between them, and he knows Adam can too. "It would be..."

"Yeah," Adam whispers. "Yeah."

Kris's chest aches and his throat is tight and his eyes are stinging. When he pulls away, he sees Adam's eyes and knows it's the same for him.

It doesn't make sense, any of it, but that's the way it's always been; two people who don't make sense, fitting.

Kris catches himself looking at Adam's lips again, which curl into a knowing smirk. "Once."

"Addictive," Kris says softly.

Adam sighs, traces Kris's bottom lip with his thumb. "Yeah."

Adam doesn't ask Kris anything. Kris doesn't ask Adam anything, either.

Kris doesn't know what this means, what's next. He can't figure out why he doesn't feel worse, why it feels like it'll work out how it's meant to be, whatever that is. Obviously he has stuff to figure out and some forgiveness to seek; Adam does, too. But one thing he knows for sure is, they're not going to turn into casual acquaintances. Neither of them are the type to back away from a problem. And there's a problem.

But right now, there's just the lingering taste of Adam in his mouth, the warmth where Adam's hands are still framing Kris's face.

They disengage gently and smile at each other. Kris can see Adam start to worry about him, so he cuts it short, hand over Adam's mouth, shakes his head.

Adam smiles, lips curling under the calloused tips of Kris's fingers, then presses a gentle kiss into his palm.

Kris smiles back at Adam, and he's sure everything shows in his eyes, on his face.

None of it's new.

Kris feels it start to change again, feels Adam's body there like a manifestation of warm energy; wants to touch, stroke, pull and push.

" _Whoa,_ " Adam says, stepping back, flushed. "Once, remember?"

"Yeah," Kris says, eyebrows raised. "Anything more than that and..."

Adam's suddenly fierce. "If ever. You tell me, Kristopher. If ever you. If ever, more than once."

Kris nods. He knows they won't talk about it again, unless Kris brings it up. "I will. And you. Have to promise to be my friend."

"Always." Adam's face is clear and gentle and happy and sad, plus a lot of other things, all at the same time. There's no doubt there, and Kris doesn't have any either, not really. "I'm going to call you thirty seconds after we split up at the airport. You watch."

"I was planning on twenty myself." Kris squeezes Adam's shoulders one last time and picks up his bag. "Okay, let's do this."

"Game on." Adam puts on his sunglasses and they walk out to the waiting limo.

Kris has a lot to think about. He's deeply flawed, and doesn't think there's forgiveness available for how he's screwed things up, but he wouldn't go back.

Whatever happens, he'll know he had that, they had that, for that moment in time. They'd been falling slowly into each other from the very beginning. It needed to happen, or they'd always wonder. Knowing makes it harder, but it was right. One time.

Once.

~The End~ 

**Author's Note:**

> Written for lithoboly, for her generous charity contribution. She suggested something about Ford Day.


End file.
